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Okay so this post mainly covers the first two chapters of the second book, so don't read it if you haven't finished the first book yet - BUT I also want to discuss how I killed my English teacher (unintentionally) so I'll warn you before the spoilers enter the post (for now you can read on).

Okay so, about a month ago (prolly a bit more), I contacted my English teacher after my class with her ended and told her that I wrote a book because I wanted to know her opinion about it - her opinion would be very important in deciding whether to publish the book or not.

Shortly after, she responded saying she'd love to read it and would in fact love to hold a summer writing club starting next week.

Well

Two weeks later, no response to book, nor anything about the writing club (which she told me she would like for me to join and I agreed happily), so I contacted her again.

She said she was busy on some conference out of town (ah yes, a conference that lasts two weeks) and I said alright, take your time it's not a hurry.

Well uh

Since then another two weeks have passed and she has said nothing

She was supposed to start the writing club over a month ago

But nope

She has disappeared from my emails as well

I am afraid the book was so bad she suicided

Anyway on that very optimistic note let's get to the second book!

Oh and uh

Spoiler warning, everything from now on and until the end of this post deals with the second book, so don't read it unless you've read the first one.

OKAY

So the title of the second book is *probably* going to be The False Realm - Expansion but it isn't confirmed yet.

Anyway, here are the first two chapters of the book, enjoy, if you want you can leave feedback but it might be a bit hard to do that as you might be able to tell from the first two chapters, it doesn't exactly begin where book 1 left off...

Have fun reading

The False Realm – Expansion

Section 1 – The Future

Chapter 1

The cool breeze woke him up, but it would be the adrenaline rush that kept him awake.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at a mirror.

His reflection revealed a tired fifteen-year-old boy restrained to a chair.

There was odd technology connected to the boy’s head. It looked like some kind of mind-reading device out of a science fiction movie.

The boy was wearing ripped clothes, and his body was covered in cuts and bruises.

His face was covered in dust and his right ear was bleeding.

It had been partially torn off.

The boy tried to touch it, but he was unable to due to his hands being restrained.

He looked at the ropes binding him and tried to figure out what was happening.

But...he couldn’t remember anything.

Why was he tied to the chair? Why were these devices attached to him? Why was there no one nearby, and why did the room look like a hurricane had taken place inside of it?

He tried to get out of the chair, and to his surprise, the ropes ripped with almost no resistance.

Wasting no time, he tore off all the tubes and devices attached to him.

He stood up awkwardly and shrugged off the remaining ropes.

They fell down loosely at his feet.

Now that he was free, he quickly scanned the room.

The main part was the chair that he had been sitting on. It was a brown, leather chair, which was quite odd considering he had clearly been restrained in that chair.

He felt like a first-class prisoner, if that was a thing.

Pretty interesting chair.

The devices around him were not to be taken lightly. He had been correct, they were attached to his brain and clearly trying to do something to him. He couldn’t understand what was happening on the computer screens, but he understood enough to tell something suspicious was going on.

He looked down and realized there had been small sensors attached to his arms and legs that he hadn’t noticed. They must have been very light, since he hadn’t even noticed them when he had stood up.

The rest of the room followed the confusing pattern. Aside from the dusty mirror, the room also housed two more things: a door and a large hole in one of the walls.

The large hole looked like it had been blown up from the outside, which at least partially explained all the dust and pieces of brick on the floor.

The cool breeze that had woken him up had probably come from there.

It was a miracle that he hadn’t been hit.

Unlike the mystical hole, the door itself was very plain. The only possible exit (a quick glance through the hole revealed the room was at least on the third floor), the wooden door had a few cracks and a layer of dust from the explosion of the wall.

The cement floor was covered completely in dust, broken bricks, and... blood?

He bent down to touch it.

Yep. Blood.

He turned back to the mirror. Once again, the reflection revealed a 15-year-old boy, but this time he was standing in front of the chair.

He approached the mirror. It was dusty as well, so he wiped it off with his hand to get a better look at himself.

He was still wearing the same clothes, but it appeared that his ear was no longer bleeding.

Interesting. He was sure it had been bleeding a moment ago.

According to the mirror, he was wearing a dull gray shirt and ripped blue shorts.

“Oh,” he noticed.

He had a name tag on his shirt.

The reflection from the mirror was unreadable, so he had to manually tear it off.

He took a quick look at the name.

It didn’t ring any bells.

Suddenly, the realization hit him.

He really didn’t remember anything. Nothing at all!

He had no idea what his name was until he read the name tag attached to his shirt!

He couldn’t remember his family, his friends, his past, who he was, or what he was doing here.

It was all completely blank.

He realized something else and slowly turned around, letting the name tag flutter to the floor.

“What if...what if the machines were created in order to erase my memory?” he wondered aloud.

Immediately, he scowled.

“Time to figure out who’s behind this,” he scowled, heading for the door.

He paused with his hand on the door handle and turned around to take one last look at the name tag on the floor.

“Leon,” he whispered. “That’s an interesting name.”

He smiled. “I think I can live with that.”

He turned back around and opened the door.

There was a dead body on the other side.

And not just one.

Leon stepped out into the corridor.

More like thirty, all decapitated.

The blood was still gushing out at a very fast rate.

That meant the kills were recent, and the murderer was nearby.

Chapter 2

Leon turned around, horrified.

Thirty...thirty people, dead.

Leon stepped out carefully, avoiding the bodies. He slowly trudged toward the exit.

His feet splashed in the blood as he walked.

How...horrible. Why did this happen? Was he in some war zone?

He reached the staircase and swung the door open.

More dead bodies.

He gasped in horror, but proceeded to go down the staircase anyway. He needed to escape.

The bodies were lined up in a specific pattern, giving the feeling that all of them had been killed at the same time. There were people everywhere. On the floor, on the rails, and even on top of other bodies. The bodies and heads were piled up everywhere on the spiraling staircase.

The stench was terrible as well, because although the bodies hadn’t started to rot yet, the smell of blood was still very significant.

Leon slowly made his way down three flights of stairs and reached the ground level.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door to the outside open.

Wow. Maybe he really was in a war zone.

There were many buildings similar to the one he had been in surrounding a large street. The buildings were mostly demolished, with only a few still standing.

The building he had been inside of was one of the only ones with less than half of it destroyed.

But the buildings themselves weren’t the scariest things at the scene.

The street had many, many dead bodies.

Based on the positions of the bodies, it appeared that a swarm of similarly dressed agents had attacked a group of...kids?

That’s right. On one side, there were three hundred dead soldiers. On the other, about ten dead teenagers.

Leon’s shock was immeasurable.

Why had hundreds of adults with weapons attacked a group of kids?

An even greater question was: how were the kids able to kill the hundreds of trained adults?!

If only Leon could remember what had happened…

But Leon didn’t remember.

He slowly walked toward the dead kids and stopped in front of the first body.

Or, rather, two bodies.

One of the bodies was a little kid, younger than the others. The other was an older girl, holding the little boy in her arms.

Both had the lower halves of their bodies sliced off.

Has the older girl died trying to protect the little kid?

Leon noticed a name tag still partially attached to the boy’s shirt.

Leon bent down and grabbed it, tearing it off the blood-soaked sleeve it was attached to.

He read it aloud.

“Joe.”

The name didn’t sound familiar.

Leon let go of the name tag and it fluttered away in the wind, before eventually landing in a puddle of blood.

He continued walking forward while trying to avoid looking at the corpses.

“Who are all these people?” Leon wondered. “Did I know them before I lost my memory?”

“Were they the cause of my memory loss, possibly? Or are we some kind of test subjects? Are they genetically modified to withstand bullets?”

These and many other questions spun around in Leon’s head as he continued walking past the bodies.

Maybe it was all a dream? Nothing made sense. It had to be some kind of nightmare.

But Leon knew it wasn’t a dream.

Whatever was happening - whatever had caused all this murder - was alive. This was reality.

And the reality was horrible. Leon was walking by bodies that belonged to people he had spent months with training, fighting, and sacrificing themselves for the sake of destroying evil and saving the world.

And Leon did not even remember knowing them.

Many had died along the way.

And those who hadn’t died along the way died in this fight. Or, if they weren’t dead yet, they would be soon.

But, of course, Leon didn’t know that. He just continued walking past the bodies.

He would have possibly kept on going till he collapsed, had he not heard the unmistakable sound of someone calling his name.

At first, it was faint. Leon thought it was just the wind and his imagination teaming up to make him hear things, but as he approached the origin of the sound, it became clear that this was more than just his imagination.

Leon crept up briskly but quietly. The person calling out his name sounded desperate, but Leon couldn’t risk falling for a trap that could get him killed.

When he reached the alley that contained the speaker, he took a look around the corner of the alley instead of immediately rushing in.

The alley was similar to most other small alleys, but the major difference was that there was a trail of blood leading up to the person calling Leon’s name.

Leon narrowed his eyes to get a better look.

The person was an elderly man, probably early 70’s. He had gray hair and a beard. Sitting on the ground and leaning on the wall, he looked battered. He had bruises and cuts, his clothes were torn apart, and he appeared extremely tired and in pain.

“Leon, I can see you standing there...come over here, we don’t have much time…” he spoke slowly.

Leon reluctantly left his hiding position and approached the unknown man.

“Leon, do you remember who I am?” he asked.

Leon shook his head.

“Do you remember anything at all?”

Leon shook his head again.

“That’s unfortunate,” the man sighed. “I guess Norman’s experiment didn’t work, after all.”

Leon didn’t reply. He had no idea who Norman was and didn’t want to risk saying something dumb.

“Anyway, I don’t have time to explain,” the man continued. “Grab my hand.”

The man’s hand shook as he raised it.

“Why would I ever do that?” Leon asked, retracting his hand from the man’s reach.

“Leon, we don’t have much time...grab my hand, please!” The man begged.

“I’m sorry,” Leon replied. “But I just saw a bit too many dead bodies. I’m on edge. At least tell me who you are and how you know me.”

“My name is Arthur. Arthur Wilfer. I don’t have time to explain how I met you or who I am, but here’s what you need to know: I have special abilities - superpowers, if you will - but my most powerful superpower, the ability to turn back time, can only be activated when I’m in contact with another person - because although I am the one who turns back time, I can only do so once; I will have no memory of turning back time and I will die a minute after landing in the past. But, this is the only way to save everyone, so, quick, grab my hand!!”

Leon sighed.

“Old man, you’re insane. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. The wound in your chest will kill you soon. You’re saying nonsense due to the blood loss. I’m sorry, but I cannot do anything to save you.”

Leon looked down. “Just close your eyes and accept death when it comes, which will be soon.”

Leon turned around. “Goodbye.”

The man coughed aggressively.

“Leon!! Remember what happened! Remember how many you’ve killed!!”

Leon turned around.

“What?”

“Leon, you’ve killed so many people because you believed it was worth it. And, it probably was! But in the end, you were unable to save what mattered most...you need to go back, and you need to succeed this time. Please!!”

Leon had no idea what the insane man was saying, but his curiosity got the better of him and he approached the man nevertheless.

“Continue. What was I fighting to save?” Leon asked.

“Everything, Leon. The world rested on your shoulders. And, maybe, it was too much, even for you. But we have another chance. A last chance. So, just grab my hand, and we can still save those who you care about! We can still save the people you love!!”

“I-I don’t-” Leon struggled to transform his feelings into words.

Was the scenario of the man actually not being crazy even a realistic possibility?

Leon’s thoughts were interrupted with a yell.

“Hey! Look, that’s him!” Someone carrying a gun called out from one of the ends of the alley,

The man had the letters “IADA” written over his uniform.

After his call, three similarly dressed agents ran up to the scene.

One of them whispered something and all four soldiers raised their guns and pointed them at Leon.

Leon took a step back, scared.

Thankfully, he was now within Dr. Wilfer’s reach.

“Aha!” Dr. Wilfer exclaimed, grabbing Leon by the ankle.

Before Leon had any time to protest, Dr. Wilfer yelled, “Get ready, this is going to hurt!”

Dr. Wilfer was right - it hurt.

A lot.

Operation Saga

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